


Spa Day

by ellerkay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Gift Fic, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 19:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16980135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellerkay/pseuds/ellerkay
Summary: Dean needs some time alone. Sam decides to treat him to a spa day.





	Spa Day

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the spn_bigpretzel [Holiday Gift-A-Thon](https://spn-bigpretzel.livejournal.com/1209952.html), for jdl71.

“Hey, I’m back,” Sam announced, as he entered the motel room.

“I can see that,” Dean snapped. He was sitting on his bed, flipping through channels on the TV. “What the hell happened? I thought you were gonna be gone for a while, being a dork.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “The library was closed,” he said. “We forgot it’s Memorial Day.”

Dean groaned. “Right. Stupid federal holidays.”

“Sorry my presence is such a hardship,” Sam said, sounding more bemused than angry.

Dean glanced at him. “No, sorry,” he said. “It’s just that we’ve been on the road for days. Kinda thought I was gonna get an afternoon to myself.”

“I could go drive around for awhile.”

“No, forget it,” Dean said. “I know you’re sick of being in the car.”

Sam nodded, and sat down at the motel room table with his laptop. He turned his back to Dean, trying to give him at least a semblance of privacy. But he knew it wasn’t the same.

***

The next morning, Dean woke up late. They’d gotten in early in the morning, after a routine salt-and-burn. Sam was gone, but when Dean texted him, he said he was on his way back.

Dean heard his brother come in as he was finishing brushing his teeth.

“Brought you something,” Sam called.

“I hope it’s coffee,” Dean called back. He wiped his mouth on a towel and emerged from the bathroom.

“Yeah, there’s coffee and breakfast burritos, but that’s not all.” Sam was grinning as he held out a small piece of paper. Dean accepted it, frowning.

“Gift certificate to – the _Serenity Day Spa_?” Dean laughed. “Dude, what the hell is this?”

“All expenses paid spa day,” Sam said. “You said you wanted some time to yourself. I figured I’d give you a chance to really unwind. You’re welcome.”

Dean looked at him incredulously. “What? Why would you think this is what I wanted?”

Sam seemed utterly unfazed by Dean’s response. “Go. You’ll love it.”

“Does it come with a happy ending?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Of course not. Don’t be gross.”

Dean held the coupon back out to him. “If you think it’s so great, why don’t _you_ take it? I get a solo day either way.”

“No,” Sam said firmly. “It’s for you. You need to relax. Eat your breakfast and I’ll drop you off.”

He had his most stubborn face on. Dean knew there would be no arguing with him, and decided to just do as he said. And _not_ because there was some treacherous little part of him that actually thought this sounded kinda fun. Nope, that was definitely not a thing that he was thinking at all.

***

Dean rolled his eyes at the Zen garden in front of the spa, and ground his teeth at the New Agey crap they were playing in the lobby. But the place actually looked really nice, paneled in warm wood and decorated with soft green and cream colors. And the woman at the desk was pretty cute, in a hippie chick sort of way.

“Are you Dean?” she asked, when he approached her. Dean blinked, not expecting to be recognized.

“Uh, yeah,” he said cautiously.

Her smile was friendly enough to be disarming. “Your brother was in here about an hour ago, buying your gift,” she said. “He told me this is your first time at a spa?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “I don’t usually go in for…” He waved a hand. “This type of thing.”

Her smile didn’t waver. “Don’t worry! We get lots of first-timers. My name is Hazel.” She rose from her chair. “I’ll show you to a room where you can change.”

“Change?” Dean said, following her down the hall. She ushered him into a small semi-dark room. There was a lit lavender-scented candle on a little table.

“You can leave your clothes in here,” Hazel said brightly. Dean’s eyes widened in alarm, but she wasn’t done. “There’s a robe hanging on the back of the door for you to wear. The key to this room is on the table, so you can lock up your things. Take your time!”

She’d walked out and shut the door behind her before Dean could protest that he was absolutely _not_ going to wander around a freakin’ day spa in nothing but a robe.

He glared at the robe, which was white and looked very fluffy. He fingered the material. It _was_ fluffy. Actually, it was maybe one of the softest things Dean had ever touched.

Dean glanced around the room and reluctantly started pulling off his clothes. He was going to kill Sam for this.

***

When Dean was completely sure that the robe was securely fastened, he exited the room and locked the door, pocketing the key and a small penknife, just in case. The robe shifted a little as he moved. It felt like heaven against his skin. Dean started to grin and quashed it immediately. This was not fun, it was Sam’s idea of a prank.

“Here you are,” Hazel said, appearing and handing him a glass of cucumber water. Dean examined it.

“Don’t you have beer or something?” he said. Hazel looked faintly horrified.

“No, no alcohol,” she said, her tone mildly scolding. “We’re here to help cleanse you of toxins.”

“I thought I was here to relax,” Dean said.

“You will!” Her smile was back in place. Dean grimaced and took a sip of the cucumber water. It actually wasn’t half bad.

“Okay, we have you down for a mud bath and facial first,” Hazel said cheerfully.

Dean blanched. “What?!”

She took him by the arm and started steering him down another hallway. “Don’t worry. You’ll love it!”

***

Fifteen minutes later, Dean found himself neck-deep in a mud bath, with some goop smeared all over his face and cucumber slices on his eyes. What was with these people and cucumber?

They’d given him a pair of trunks to wear into the mud, at least, but it was still… _mud_ , and it was weird even if it was sort of pleasantly squishy, and…

Yeah, maybe it was _kind_ of relaxing. Or it would be, if it wasn’t for the horrible soundscapes of the Pacific Northwest shit they were still playing over the speakers. Sure, it was soothing, but at what cost?

It did all feel weirdly good, though, and Dean could feel muscles relaxing that he hadn’t even known were tense.

After she’d decided he was muddy enough, Hazel ushered Dean to a shower cubicle and let him rinse off. When he was back in his soft-as-a-cloud robe, she served him tea – _tea_ – and a light lunch which Dean was horrified to discover was vegan, and even more horrified to find was pretty good.

After lunch was a pedicure, which Dean tried to argue his way out of, but Hazel insisted it was all paid for, like _that_ was the issue. He drew the line at nail polish, though, even the clear coat they tried to talk him into. Finally, it was time for a full-body massage. That, Dean decided, he could get behind. The masseuse didn’t say a word about his scars or knots of tension, only worked them with gentle pressure until Dean felt as limp as a piece of cooked spaghetti.

He grinned pretty widely at Hazel after it was done. She had appeared to conduct him to a private bath which smelled like roses. She told him to soak for as long as he wanted. It was a mark of how relaxed he was that Dean decided not to bother telling her that he didn’t like baths. In for a penny, in for a pound.

Anyway, he reflected, as he lay in the tub, maybe baths weren’t so bad.

***

Sam arrived to pick him up after Dean had been at the spa for about six hours.

“How was it?” Sam asked as Dean got in the car.

“How do you think it was? I had to wear a robe – “

“You love robes,” Sam pointed out.

“Of course I do, who doesn’t love robes? That’s not the point. Anyway, the music was godawful and they made me eat vegetables for lunch. Plus, no booze. That place was unbelievable.” Dean was having a hell of a time keeping a dopey smile off his face, and Sam was obviously not buying a word of it.

“Glad you had fun,” Sam said, smirking faintly.

“Yeah, thanks for this,” Dean replied. He’d meant for it to sound sarcastic, but felt like he had missed the mark somehow.

“You’re welcome,” Sam said, smiling. He put the Impala in gear, and they set off down the road.

**Author's Note:**

> "Soundscapes of the Pacific Northwest" was shamelessly stolen from Jensen in Misha's [wonderful mockumentary](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p18WkFoFvSA).


End file.
